The Bluejay Adventures
by ghettoginny
Summary: the inkheart crew never fall into inkworld.. so its all up to the real bluejay whose got a few problems including his own weakness, the Adderhead, and the excitable apprentice, Fleetfoot!
1. Chapter 1

**The Adventures of the Bluejay: Episode 1**

**Bluejay's New (Stubborn) Apprentice**

**Those who read this should have read Inkspell or it will be a bit of a spoiler for you.  
This is mostly an introduction to Bluejay and Fleetfoot's characters and an idea of what's been going on in the Inkspell where the Bluejay is real , Mo, Meggie, Farid, and Resa don't exist , and Dustfinger never disappeared into our world.  
Parentheses are me, the author,talking to you!**

The Bluejay was thinking. Though he couldn't keep his in the right place for Fleetfoot was fidgeting. He was good at that. Fleetfoot was the boy who he'd found trying to steal some rich man's gold. Inexperienced as he was, Fleetfoot was about to get caught. Luckily, Bluejay had spotted him and drew him back. There was some kicking and shouting about starving but finally Fleetfoot was convinced of Bluejay's sincerity. Bluejay regretted decision to take the impatient boy under his wing. (Excuse the pun.)

"Goodness!" Bluejay finally exclaimed. "They should be calling you Fidgetface, not Fleetfoot!  
"  
"Just because of your infamous rep, it doesn't mean you can mock me!" the boy spat back with narrowed eyes.

"Even if I was the scum of the earth, I would still think you were impatient…" Bluejay muttered.

"Scum doesn't feel," he said as if he knew everything. "What takes you so long to think about anyway?

Bluejay sighed. "I suppose I should tell-- seeing as you're my new apprentice." The boy scowled with distaste.

"I believe we will both regret out decisions, but I need to learn to steal and you have way too much pity than you need."

"No, I've just always wanted an apprentice," he said with a sniff. He was fluffing. He'd never like people getting in his way. Although some still saw him as a fictional superhero who needed a sidekick. Thanks to that wreck Fenoglio, Bluejay was a story mothers would tell their children to rock them to sleep. "Anyway, I believe that since Fenoglio exposed me with his foolish songs -- that are very amusing I must say --", he almost laughed. Unfortunately, he had not laughed as much as he had in the past when he stole from the Adderhead just for the fun of it. He hadn't since that first look-alike had lost his life to the Adderhead's gallows-- "but those songs have caused a half a dozen poor men's death due to the fear of that coward Adderhead. Plus the number of Strolling Players hanged since last year when this nonsense began has doubled maybe tripled! I've got to do something about it… I must speak with the Black Prince or possibly that fire-eater. Fleetfoot, we're going on a trip to the Strolling Player Camp."

"Oh, WOW!" Fleetfoot's eyes were shining. He could really be a bit of a kid sometimes. That comforted Bluejay.

While packing, Fleetfoot showed just how big his change of heart was. Every second a new question popped out of him, like a serious case of hiccups. Bluejay could barely open his mouth to answer without being interrupted. And apparently all Fleetfoot knew was what he heard in the copper piece stories he'd pay the minstrels to sing for him.

"The Adderhead's the evil king of Argenta right?"

"Yeah…"

"With the snake!"

"Uh huh…"

"And the gallows!"

"Nothing to be excited ab--"

"Sorry, but you'll have to tell me all the stories… you know them, right?"

"Goodness! Questions later when we are in the Wayless Wood."

"Will we see fairies? And Night-Mares?"

"I depends on where Strolling Players are…"

Fleetfoot proved to be true to his name. He went bounding down the steps, quick, as a water nymph will swim away, without even a stumble. Bluejay followed with his own swift movement. He was like water. He spoke like a brook laughing, he walked like rain that was fast but smooth, and his eyes were a blue the color of the sea.

Fleetfoot on the other hand was too spunky to ever follow in Bluejay's footsteps. His hair was sandy and stuck up in all directions. Being 15, he had obviously hit a growth spurt. He was almost as tall as the Bluejay himself. That was something to say.

As they strode through the town, toward the gates, a minstrel was singing a song-- a song about Bluejay. It was telling of his moleskin hair and tall figure and the scar on his upper arm. Fleetfoot glanced at him.

"Aren't you scared you'll get caught walking around without a mask in broad daylight? Has anyone stopped you?"

Bluejay smiled. "I would most likely be caught if I wore the mask, don't you think? And this is Lombrica. The Laughing Prince doesn't care that I'm making problems for the Adderhead. He'd probably would just make me a knight if we crossed paths."

Once in the wood, Fleetfoot asked again about Adderhead. So Bluejay gave in and told him all about it.

"As you know there are two realms: Lombrica, of the laughing Prince and Argenta, of the Adderhead. The Adderhead is always searching for a way to become ruler of both realms. The Black Prince and I are doing all that we can to prevent this. Every plan he devises, it is our job to stop. We've had no information of a new plan but alas, I am restless. I cannot sit back while I cause death."

"But it's not your fault."

"Yes, partly. Because of my new found infamous knack to steal as the troublemaker who helps the Black Prince, the Adderhead is furious and has sent his new fire-raising friends to kill any man who looks like me and every strolling player who unluckily crosses their path. He won't stop until his hands are strangling my neck."

"New fire-raisers?"

"Yeah. Since that scoundrel Capricorn was proclaimed dead, his old potion maker and all his little minions have gone to the Adderhead who has promised them who knows how much gold for me in chains. Or even the Black Prince."

"Who's this fire-eater?"

"Well, really I don't know. I've only known the Black Prince for a while but he is supposedly the Black Prince's best friend from when they were orphans. He's a good man, I presume. I've seen him fire-eat. He's amazing. Could we finish with these questions?"

Fleetfoot went back to being annoyed.

For the rest of the day and the next they walked through the wood looking for the camp. Finally, at sunset they found it. They were instantly surrounded bye laughter and voices and the smell of decent food. A storyteller sat in front of wide-eyed children and all around tents were lit by the cackling of fire. Bluejay strode to the nearest one and peeked in. Two young girls were rocking a baby to sleep. The eldest one immediately looked suspicious.

"What do you want?" she demanded.

"Would you know where the Black Prince is? My little friend and I need to speak with him."

Fleetfoot made a "pfft" sound behind him. "As if I am little," he muttered.

"And who are you?"

"The Bluejay."

The eyes of the younger girl widened.

"Fine then", the elder said curtly and bustled out. Bluejay and Fleetfoot followed.  
The girl pointed her finger at a large tent and turned quick on her heel. Fleetfoot stuck out his tongue at her back. Bluejay smirked as if he were a boy again. These days he had the urge to act like himself. He hadn't been as carefree as he usually was. He opened the flap of the tent and walked in. The Black Prince slouched next to the fire. Obviously, he had been talking with the man next to him. The man was smiling but it didn't suit him. His face had 3 scars, long and white. This was presumably the fire-eater; he had blackened fingers and smelled of soot.

"Bluejay! What a good surprise! What bring you here? You have to meet my best mate, Dustfinger."

"I'd love to hear of your stories, stranger," Bluejay first said to Dustfinger, "but I'm finished with watching men hang. I think I should… turn myself in to the Adderhead. Even if I'm the next one on the gallows."


	2. Chapter 2

**The Adventures of the Bluejay: Episode 2**

**Bluejay's Decision**

**Those who read this should have read Inkspell or it will be a bit of a spoiler for you.**

**This is when the real action starts. Please don't ask me how Fenoglio got into the book… just enjoy it. I'm not as terribly brilliant as I look. Oh and its in Fleetfoot's point of view now. Also, I think I need to do a disclaimer thingo: YADA YADA CORNELIA FUNKE'S CHARACTERS XEPT FOR FLEETFOOT (SO DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT STEALING HIM)**

Fleetfoot stopped fidgeting and looked up. He was convinced now that Bluejay was mad. Not angry-mad but crazy-mad.

"That's absolutely bonkers of you!" Fleetfoot yelled.

The Black Prince looked at him. "I agree. That's the most foolish thing I've heard since the day Dustfinger told me he stuck horns on a marten."

Dustfinger smiled.

"Yeah," protested Fleetfoot. "I thought you were going to teach me to steal like you!"

Oddly, Bluejay just grinned. "Whoever said that I wasn't?"  
"Considering that you'll probably be strung up on Adderhead's gallows until your head falls off…" he said hotly.

"Since when have you been an expert on politics? You've never been to his silver fortress. Have you clung to the ceilings while guards scrambled around searching for you? Have you even seen the Adderhead? I assure you, Fleetfoot, I am not stupid. I don't plan to step foot into the castle until I am secure with my plan."

"Bluejay! Don't scare me so much!" said BP **(a/n all this black prince stuff is a kick in the can to type so he will be referred to as BP from this point forth) **with a tiny chuckle.

"Well, I'm convinced that your too brave for your own good, mate. Yet, I'm not sure if I'd rather stay a cowardly fire-eater or become a risk-taking robber… I just hope that you're clever enough to hold your own," commented Dustfinger with a certain perception to his voice.

"Oh, since when have you been the wisest of the wise?" BP looked at Dustfinger mockingly.

Dustfinger left that question unanswered save for a grin. Fleetfoot hadn't expected this at all. He had always imagined BP as silent and daunting, not all this boyish banter! _The Bluejay and his sarcasm are quite enough for me, _he thought haughtily. _I thought thieves were supposed to be cunning! _

"We should get a plan in order then…" said Bluejay. Anyone could tell that he the anticipation of a child on Christmas Eve. ** (a/n YES, there is Xmas in Inkworld) "**You can go now, Fleetfoot."

"But--"

"Just go!"

"But--"

"FLEETFOOT!"

"Fine," he muttered angrily and turned out of the tent.

Once Fleetfoot was out of the tent, he began walking around quickly, muttering under his breath about how he was fourteen and more mature than the leaders here. Everyone who he walked past could almost see steam rising off him with his face tinged pink and his straw-yellow hair sticking up higher than usual. In fact he was so mad that he collided into a man.

"WATCH WHERE YOU'RE--- wait! What's a kid like you doing around here? Who're your parents?"

"I d-don't have any… please, just let me go!" The man had Fleetfoot by the scruff of his collar.

"Then what are you doing in the Strolling Player Camp? What's your talent?"

The man's suspicion was loosening along with his grip.

"I'm apprenticing…"

"With whom?"

"Uh… Georgie?" The first name that came to his head was his mother's.

"I don't know no Georgie's…." The man tightened his grip once again. "Who is it really? Tell me!"

Fleetfoot finally noticed that the man had dragged him out of the pressing eyes of the camp and into a little circle of bushes. Apparently, no one would see him being threatened by this psycho.

"Why are you so nosy anyway, Mr.? Who might you be spying for?"

He had meant that last question as a mock but it turned out that he had hit the nail right on the head.

"THE ADDERHEAD! So, I could have your snippy little nose chopped off and sown onto that stupid minstrel!"

Fleetfoot had no idea what minstrel he was talking about, but he did get that he'd better not tell this bloke about Bluejay being just a little walk away.

"I won't tell you! Not even if you kill me!"

"Now why would I do that? Your only use to me is to give me the information that I want. I have my ways of persuasion, as long as I can figure out your weakness. And I can…"

With only a few moments, Fleetfoot found himself tied to a tree with a handkerchief in his mouth, watching the man walk away. He was feeling extremely down-trodden and stupid. He never should have left that tent. He didn't even know how exactly he'd let the man know that he had information. Why didn't he just lie before? The man returned holding onto a struggling girl about the age of Fleetfoot himself. She was beautiful. Her hair was a long sheet of shining black and her eyes were large and the color of chestnuts.

"Would've liked a younger one, but she'll do. You noble idiots have too soft a heart!" The man took the handkerchief out of Fleetfoot's mouth and put a knife at the girl's neck. "Now, are you as enthusiastic about her dying as you were about yourself?"

Fleetfoot scowled, having painted himself into a corner. The beautiful girl was staring fiercely at him. He resented having to tell about Bluejay, but resented even more having to watch an innocent girl die for something she didn't even know about.

"Alright, alright, I'll tell you but under one circumstance--"

"NO CIRCUMSTANCES! Who's got the knife again?"

"Fine! The Bluejay is in the camp. But you'll never be able to take him by yourself! He could kill you with his pinky, you dirty, rotten, son of a--"

The man cut him off once again rudely. "Oh, really? How long have you been training?"

Fleetfoot decided that fighting was inevitably pointless. "For about 3 days…"

"Figures."

Fleetfoot scowled.

"Alright, we should be off to the Adderhead's now," the man said as he whipped a rope out his bag and moved for the girl. She kicked him the gut and grabbed his knife. With a swift motion Fleetfoot was no longer tied to the tree.

"I'm coming with you," said the girl as Fleetfoot made a movement to start running. He gave her a look that said what-the-hell-is-your-problem, but just started running. If she wanted to keep up with him she could. He didn't care what she did and he certainly had no problem with letting her try to sprint as fast as he did. He took off, faster than a frightened fawn, and even rivaling the humming-bird's beating wings.

When he reached the tent, he had lost track of how far behind she was. He burst in, meriting an annoyed glance from Bluejay, which he ignored.

"A man… he caught me… he knows… works for the Adderhead!"

He was talking so fast that that was all anyone got out of it.

"Calm down, calm down," said Bluejay evenly. "Now what happened?"

Seconds after his story was told the girl stumbled in huffing and puffing. Bluejay, BP, and Dustfinger alike looked worried.

"This must be the girl," said Bluejay.

"The name is Corey," she said as if being called 'the girl' was the dirtiest thing to say.

"We've got to get everyone out of here!" BP said as he stood up. He was tall although not as tall as Bluejay. "Who knows how many spies are just waiting in the wood. They could all be with that man. We're much too close to the main road for them to be afraid of the creatures in here. Dustfinger and I will go around a tell everyone that we're getting out of here--- and fast. You two had better go to---"

There was a huge crash and a scream. Followed by more screams and crying. Everyone in the tent looked up. BP ran out and from there Fleetfoot could here him yell, "EVERYONE OUT!"

"Let's go, Fleetfoot," said Bluejay. He looked at the girl. "Do you have somewhere to go?"

"No," she answered shortly. She momentarily grinned. "I'm coming with you!"

Bluejay sighed. "As long as your safe…"

And then they ran, as fast as they could.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: okay, thanks for all the reviews (all four of them heh) and the names are BlueJAY and FleetFOOT… I know it was just a typo but I thought I'd let you know. His NOSE does not go fast… his FEET do. Just reminding you.**

Fleetfoot bolted out the door, of course faster than Bluejay would ever be. Bluejay watched Corey go running off after him. He almost laughed as he followed, feeling distracted. He had a feeling that there would be friction. Fleetfoot wouldn't like the girl in his business.

Looking around, he felt like a coward. The entire Strolling Player's camp was fighting against the spies that had been hidden in the woods. The Adderhead's men were so many that this group of 50 or 60 was only a small fraction of his soldiers. There he was, The Infamous Bluejay, running away from an injustice! He stopped and looked around again. He quickly found someone in need. He suddenly couldn't resist

The two girls he'd met earlier were being dragged into a wagon where a few more children already sat looking scared. Bluejay jumped into action. His dwarf-crafted sword -- one of a kind -- came from his sheath with the sound that was music to his ears. **(A/N you know how people have favorite sounds? (mine is a Snapple cap clicking) well, the sound that a sword makes coming out of its sheath is Bluejay's favorite.)**

He hated stabbing people literally in the back (he was way too noble) so he turned the man around and said with cliché oozing from his voice, "That's not very nice."

They took up a short battle. In 10 seconds the man was disarmed and in 11, he was bleeding on the ground, his Adderhead emblem bloodstained. The girls ran off saying, "Thank you, Bluejay!"

He frowned. He didn't even have his mask on. _I guess the whole moleskin thing is a pretty good description_, he thought. He momentarily touched his dark hair. He pulled out his blue, feathery mask and put it on. He turned around and gasped. Only a stone's throw away, stood Fleetfoot.

In front of Fleetfoot was a man who Bluejay knew to be Sootbird, a foolish fire-eater who wasn't half the man as Dustfinger. Bluejay saw murder in his eyes and he assumed this to be the traitor who threatened Fleetfoot. He was about the go running to the rescue (a hobby of his) when BP came jogging up behind him.

"Why are you still here? Saving lives, are you? Get out! We can't have you hung!"

Bluejay frowned again and got quite perturbed. "Prince, Fleetfoot is going to be captured by that traitor, Sootbird! I WON'T STAND HERE AND WATCH HIM GET CARRIED TO DEATH!"

"He won't die," said a voice behind him. It was Dustfinger. "Sootbird knows he's your apprentice and they'll use him as bait. All the prisoners will be bait. Don't you see? All the innocence is your weakness and the Adderhead knows it! Don't be an idiot. Get out of here! We'll save as many as we can… but the others will be fine if our plan works."

With Bluejay speechless, he and the Prince continued getting more players out into the wood. Bluejay ran into the forest and hid, watching Fleetfoot getting carried away onto the wagon, looking sulky. He felt like a useless coward. He saw the Prince looking weary with ¼ dead, ½ captured, and only ¼ safe. The 3 wagons, filled with women and children, departed and the wicked Sootbird laughed from the saddle of his horse.

Once they were gone, Bluejay revealed himself again. He joined solemnly in the scouring of the remnants of the camp for people still alive._ I didn't even get a chance to train him up. If I had, maybe he could've beaten Sootbird. Hell, if I hadn't been so rude, maybe none of this would've happened._

**A/N- Alright, just a little F.Y.I. here: Bluejay is actually very young. 29 or 30, I would say. He's not as old as Mo, Dustfinger, or the Prince who are in their late 30's. So he's still got some character developing to do. R/R!**


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Just read it: R/R!

Fleetfoot scowled. He REALLY had to itch his nose… His hands were bound and there was a rope tight around his waist that was hooked to the border of the wagon. Sootbird had done this with a sneer at the first stop.

"You're just like that despicable master of yours. Never know when to give up," he had said. Fleetfoot had already tried to escape twice and he was the only one that Sootbird treated with hate.

He tapped his foot in nervous habit on the other side of the wagon. Corey was asleep next to him along with the rest of the children captured with them. They were the oldest of the crew. In fact, the only reason they were even kidnapped was because Sootbird had as much contempt for them as they did for each other.

This had started when they truly met each other.

"Hey, Flinchfoot," Corey had said loudly. "You never said thanks for me saving your life."

This (as you probably already know) angered him a whole lot. "IT'S FLEETFOOT!"

"Whatever… You gonna' say thanks, or what?"

You could vaguely see the steam protruding from his ears. "Definitely 'or what'."

"Well, fine! Next time you're about to die, I'll just look the other way and say, 'GOOD RIDDANCE'."

"And the same to you.." he said coldly and they didn't speak to each other again.

It was the dead of the night and they'd been riding for a few days now, only stopping when the children had begun to cry from hunger. Fleetfoot and Cory had been sharing was little food they did have so that they were double the starving.

He had an odd feeling that they were getting closer the Adderhead's castle, not to mention the faint smell of the sea. He was right. And as he finally nodded off, the silver fortress came into crystal view.

A/N: Sorry for the shortness.. Unfortunately the Bluejay's point of view won't be much longer. After that, it gets a whole lot more action-packed. 


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Beth: learn how to spell… READ IT! REVIEW IT! WRECK IT! JUST DON'T HATE IT! 

Bluejay lounged next to the Prince's bear in solitude. For some reason, knowing Fleetfoot was going to be fine was not enough. He wanted to be there at the castle now. He knew they couldn't go until everyone was healed, but still he felt as if in chains…

"Bluejay!" said the Prince from behind. "You've been like this for 3 straight days! I beg you. Have a drink or something. You haven't eaten save for a few pieces of stale bread. And don't think I didn't see you give half of it to that little girl!"

"She was the only little girl left. She's five for goodness sake! Apparently both her mother and father are dead now! They were great jugglers too…"

The Prince sighed. "Do as you like then. I've no control over you. But I hope that the plan we were devising can still be used…"

Then he turned and left. Bluejay looked out darkly over the ruins of their former camp. It was all his fault. You could see the determination etched in his face. I do believe that day developed his first wrinkle.

A/N: Could've been better. With the snow today though, I'll get a whole lot updated : )


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Just read it.. 

Fleetfoot awoke at the crack of dawn and the sliver of sun hanging just above the horizon of the sea shone fiercely on the silver castle. It was dauntingly close now and as the sun finally lugged its hulking mass over the world, he was close enough to reach out and touch the shimmering walls as the tiny wagon passed through the doors.

"Hey! You! Corky! Wake up!" he kicked the girl in the butt.

"PERVERT! WHAT DO YOU WANT?" The idiocy of this greeting awoke the children who all started yapping and crying. Fleetfoot laughed and smirked as Corey turned red in the face saying, "Don't call me Corky!"

"You call me Flinchfoot!" he sputtered between chuckles.

"Hmph! I'm not the one tied to a wagon now, am I?"

"WOULD YOU ALL SHUDDUP? OR I'LL HAVE YOU ALL WHIPPED!" And thus came the voice of Sootbird. The wagon stopped abruptly and everyone became silent, though Fleetfoot was suppressing a bought of laughter.

Sootbird leapt from the horse's back and stormed to the bed of the wagon. "All of you's up!

"Sorry I can't join your party.. But I'm a bit tied up at the moment…" Fleetfoot smirked. The children look at him -- in pity or fear for him, he didn't know -- and stood. They had a bit of difficulty with it. This was on account of the way that their ankles were tied with the same rope. Corey went along with them.

Sootbird grimaced as he climbed up to unclip Fleetfoot. "Don't think I'm lettin' you off this leash… in fact…"

With that he took the rope from his waist and tightened it around his neck then dragged him like a puppy being trained out the wagon.

"I think you deserve to be treated like a dog. Like a dumb dog chasin' after a blue jay!" He laughed and jerked the rope.

Fleetfoot choked and fell on the floor. He could barely breath. Corey and the children watch in horror. His smirk had disappeared, but who has time to smirk when you're trying to breath? He felt broken and ashamed that he, Fleetfoot,the Bluejay's apprentice,had been reduced to this. He didn't cry, though. He hadn't cried once in his life since he was 5. He had had a perfectly good reason back then too.

Sootbird laughed and tugged as the walked their way through the silver-lined hallways of the castle. Every once in a while a few servant girls would pass by looking as if they had a disgusting smell beneath their noses. Of course when they saw Fleetfoot practically crawling now, they'd show a bit of pity.

They finally reached the a great door that led into the Adderhead's throne room. Sootbird smiled and looked down at Fleetfoot, whose neck, by this time, was red and raw from the rope, and said, "I'd like you to meet a good friend of mine. The Adderhead."

He pushed open the doors, jerked Fleetfoot around and over the threshold. Fleetfoot gasped, losing the bit of air he had, and fainted.

A/N: MWAHAHAHA! Cliff hanger! Sorry. Anyways, really sorry that I had to hurt Fleetfoot… but you didn't think Sootbird was going to treat him like his own, did you?


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Thank you, everyone for the nice reviews! No.. you won't find out about Fleetfoot just yet… evil laugh ; )**

While Fleetfoot was being dragged through hallways, Bluejay sat watching the sunset. The camp was finally healthy for the most part and ready to move the next night, but the Prince had made a deal with Bluejay.

"You can go on ahead of us, but when you get there, don't do anything stupid! All you can do is check on that boy you're so worried about. Don't let him know you're there either… he'll give it away. We'll only start the plan when everyone is safe at Badger's Earth."

Bluejay had agreed to this reluctantly. He could easily make his way into the castle unseen and check on Fleetfoot. But he was afraid of what he would find. The little time they had spent together though, had been enough. The boy amused him and made him smile to no extent. He could see the potential in him too. The way he moved and carried himself just reeked of a swordsman's posture.

So there he sat rest for the first time that day. He had strode without since sun-up. At this pace, he'd be there in 2 days. He contented himself to a memory…

**FLASHBACK**

_"Dear! Come in for your dinner!"_

_A mother called out to her son who came running up from the crowd of boys around him. He was tall for his age and his brown hair was short and bristly. The 8 year-old smiled widely at his mother and said, "I won money!"_

_He held out a silver coin. His mother gasped, "Where did you get this?"_

_"I won a fight!" The boy proudly stepped inside the hovel of a house and continued, "Those boys out there were betting that I couldn't beat up the biggest one. So of course I said, 'Yeah well, we'll see about that!' Then I just walked up the guy and kicked him in the you-know-where… Anyways, now we can buy food for you!"_

_"Give this money back, NOW! How could you do this? Gambling at your age? What would your father have thought?"_

_"But Ma--"_

_"GO!"_

_The boy's eyes welled up with tears as he trudged out to hand the silver coins to a boy on the floor who was crying quite hysterically for being around 10. The tiny Bluejay went back inside to eat a dinner of stale bread. That was the night his mother started coughing…_

**A/N: The flashbacks for Bluejay will be sad… but they'll only come once in a while. Keep reading!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Well… I can't hold out on you for too long. My will to make people cry and beg is pretty weak. I just want more reviews!**

Fleetfoot groaned involuntarily as a large slop of beer slapped his face. The rope was still around his neck, but the leash seemed to have been slashed by a sword. This instilled the momentary hope that Bluejay had arrived. His hopes were dashed as he listened to what was going on.

"YOU IDIOT! HOW DARE YOU WASTE MY BEER ON THAT PAWN?" and thus spoke the Adderhead, harsh and clear through the throne room. He was addressing a short man with a long-sleeved white shirt and nasty smile which disappeared in moments.

"I was waking the filth up. Couldn't have him all unconscious while discussed his fateful plans for the future, can we?"

Fleetfoot rubbed the abrasions on his neck and winced. His hands had been untied, so he stood up and proud as ever smoothed his unwashed hair.

"Basta! Why didn't you kick him or something instead? Get away from him and eat, you fool! FIREFOX! Grab that boy and tie him up. We've got some talking to do. Sootbird, take the kids to the dungeons and lock 'em up. You!" he pointed at a few of the maidservants who stood lined up beside his chair. "Take that girl and clean her up. I want a son and she'll make a fine wife. Quite beautiful, actually…"

Corey looked alarmed as the maidservants moved towards her. "I don't think so!" she said loudly and backed away. The Adderhead laughed.

"Flatnose, give the ladies a hand!"

A man behind the Silver Prince stood up and smiled. He turned to grab Corey. Fleetfoot, finally catching on jumped up. This Firefox man was just about to take his arm when he hopped away, quickly as usual and slid beneath the table, right past the prince, himself! Firefox hurdled the table all together (bringing a few plates with him) to land on top of Fleetfoot who had stopped for a split second to rub his neck in pain. But before Firefox could do damage, Fleetfoot punched out, not minding where he hit and slipped out of grip.

"Corky!" He yelled this without thought and leapt onto the back of Flatnose. He hooked his feet together as he slid back down, his long legs dragging the flailing Flatnose with him. "RUN!" screamed Fleetfoot.

Not one guard was alert enough to catch the girl who sprinted out the doors with only the whiff of lavender and a whip of black hair to remember her by. Fleetfoot recollected himself now and noticed that an angry Flatnose, Firefox, and Adderhead were all standing up and prowling towards him.

"Whip him! Just don't kill him… we need that scrawny little bastard," directed the Adderhead who looked down at him with a good bit of hate. "You lost me the prettiest bride I've seen in months. Think you're clever, do you? We'll see how clever you are when you're smacked around so much that you can't remember your name. Your master will be joining you soon though. Hear that, Basta? Firefox? No killing! Not yet anyways…"

The Adderhead turned and left the room, followed by the maidservants and an old lady who to Fleetfoot looked like she was decomposing already. She was smiling wickedly and saying, "Will I get to brew a poison for that little brat?"

His stomach flopped as he look up at Basta, Firefox, and Flatnose… all looking down at him. "Adderhead unfortunately likes it better when the torture prisoners and bright and cheery when they're about to meet my knife.. So we'll have to meet again… Ta!" the man called Basta turned and went with the others.

That was when he noticed the last two men and the maidservants from before waiting for him.

"No tricks!" said the one man.

"No tricks…" repeated Fleetfoot dazedly.

**A/N: okay.. Definitely not my best.. sob… that sucked: (**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: happy to say that after reading a few horrible stories entered on fanfic… I'm feeling much better about my writing abilities. I mean, they're not as bad an some of the stuff I've seen. The thing that gets me down is the REALLY well written ones. O well… READ AND REVIEW!**

He was there. Bluejay stared at the silver walls and sighed. He didn't like the idea of seeing Fleetfoot in the Adderhead's castle. It was certain that as soon as Bluejay saw whatever it was they were doing with him, his muscles would tense up and he jump down to protest.

He crouched in the thicket beside a stairwell that led to the wine cellar far below Adderhead's throne room. He groped for his mask and placed it one his face leaving only his mouth area and ears exposed. Silently skittering up the steps, he checked to see that no one was watching. Every few moments a soldiers would pass and look down, at which point Bluejay swung just beneath the creaking wood and stared through the crevice to make sure the man had gone.

Making his way to through the wine cellar was easy. All he had to do was creep unnoticed past the enormous wine racks.

_'Stride, stride, stop, look, stride…'_ he said to himself in his head. _'Stride, stride --'_

"What's that?"

Alarmed, Bluejay looked up. He could hear the steps of an old woman. The steps were hesitant, as if she were trying to keep quiet. But he could hear them just fine as they echoed about the cellar. What was one hag to Bluejay? No, he couldn't do harm to a woman.. He was much too noble for that. _'I'll just knock her out..'_ he thought. _'She'll just wake up with a bit of a headache.'_

With that thought, he mutely grasped a merlot from the nearest shelf and proceeded to round the corner, looking for her when, SMACK! A hand came down on the back of Bluejay's neck. Just at the spot where all it would've taken was a bit more strength to kill him. He dropped the bottle. It smashed as he slid to the floor upon it, completely in shock.

And when he dreamed, it was of his mother.

_She laid there on the bed, thin and ailing, her pale face looking at a melancholy Bluejay. Just looking at her made the poor boy want to burst out crying and as soon as he thought he would, she opened her mouth._

_"Let me tell you a secret, dear." She tried to smile and motioned for him to sit on the bed, patting the spot next to her. He slowly advanced towards her, tears pouring from his wide, blue eyes. "Now, now. What did I tell you about crying?"_

_He stared at her. Her sallow skin was so unfamiliar to how it used to be. He began to mumble, "You said that crying just makes you want to cry about other things that aren't really sad enough to cry over."_

_"Don't forget the end. Or else I'll never tell the secret." She tempted him, just as always. Her strange ways enticed him._

_"So I'll smile. Just for you Mama! Because you always say that it'll make me think of more things to smile about that really are happy."_

_She smiled, wide and proud. "That's my boy. Now come closer so I can whisper this in your ear."_

_He edged close, trying to smile. You could just see that he was fighting those darn tears. He stuck his ear right near her beam and heard her whisper, "You are just like your father. Don't stop that, now. Or you'll never find all those things that you think of when you smile."_

_He sat back and grinned. This time it was genuine and happy. "Don't you dare cry for me, young man. You hear?"_

_She hugged him close and they sat like that. They sat until they had both fallen asleep. But Mama? She never did wake up. No matter how much poor little Bluejay shook her._

**A/N: This is so SAD! I don't even know how I wrote it, it was so sad. Beth will be proud that I worked up the courage to let one of my characters die!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Yeah.. Wrote this during French class while Madame Pecheaux yelled, "JULIETTE (my French name) FERME LE LIVRE!" translation: "JULIETTE, SHUT THE BOOK!" lol.. Tom: une fish!**

As I look down on our dear Fleetfoot, I come to realize that neither of the duo are doing well. Finally they are both in the same castle. Of course with their luck, neither of them knew it.

Fleetfoot lay on the cold, stone table in the throne room, stomach down, looking up with narrowed eyes at the Adderhead. The Adderhead was smiling wickedly on his throne of silver watching the apprentice of his enemy be whipped until he bled out his ears. And Fleetfoot wasn't far from it. In addition to his neck pains, his back had a total of 37 slashes. The pain was horrid. 38 now, thanks to Basta's quick whip.

"Ugh…" he groaned for the first time. He was trying not to show how much pain he was in. Basta laughed.

"Finally giving in are you?" 39. Basta grinned.

"Giving in to what?" asked Fleetfoot stubbornly. 40 was extra hard.

"You finally squealed. Usually takes only a few for them to start moaning. Don't worry though. When I'm done with you you'll--"

Regrettably, Fleetfoot didn't find out what would happen when Basta was done. Because at that moment the huge silver doors slammed open and a guard came barreling in, carrying a tall man with moleskin hair like a sack on his back. Fleetfoot identified the old lady slinking behind them as the same Decomposing Dooshbag (a/n: wow.. Dooshbag? Dane Cook fatally effects your vocabulary) that wanted to poison him!

He flipped onto his back, the moment he saw it was Bluejay. Seconds later, he regretted it considering the sting it gave his back. Basta had stopped dead, grinning. Fleetfoot couldn't help it any longer. "BLUEJAY!"

Everyone in the throne room gave him a cold stare.

"Shut him up, Basta!" the Adderhead cackled.

Basta advanced on him. With a swift kick, Fleetfoot pounded him in the gut.

"YOU LITTLE--" he groaned. Before anyone could move Fleetfoot bounded off the table and grabbed the closest goblet he saw. He swung a punch at the man carrying Bluejay. The man ducked easily, dropping Bluejay with a thud onto the floor. He came up again, this time with a sword. Fleetfoot dove sideways and pegged the entire goblet, wine and all at Blujay's head.

He landed hard on his back, writhing and recoiling in pain, but he was quite proud. Bluejay was waking up. The first word out of his mouth were…., "DAMN! That hurt!"

That's when the whole throne room dove into action, save for the women and Adderhead who contented himself in watching.

Bluejay rubbed his head and stood up immediately saying, "Aw.. Shit.. FLEETFOOT! GET YOUR SORRY ASS OVER HERE!"

He unsheathed his sword which had been cleverly hidden on the inside of his pants. Fleetfoot looked up at him with a peeved look and pointed at his back. He was even more annoyed to find that Bluejay wasn't paying attention but crazily battling his way towards the door.

Fleetfoot dragged himself off the floor and ran over and recklessly began fist-fighting which wasn't much help. He looked down and grabbed the sword of a severely wounded man who with his last gasping breath said, "DON'T TAKE MY SWORD, YOU FILTH!"

This made Fleetfoot smirk and he stole it, kleptomaniac that he is. Making matters even worse, he helplessly realized that he'd never swung a sword in his life. Not to mention that as he looked up, there were so many soldiers, there was no way Bluejay would be weaseling his way out of this one. _'We're all gonna die..'_ was all he could think. Pessimistic? Yes. A lie? Yeah.. Right..

**A/N: I know the ending is a little rough but I just really want to get to Bluejay's POV. I know it is not the authors job to do that but.. Hey! I'm an amateur for goodness sake!And sorry for the shortness.**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Sorry.. I've been having a bit of writer's block lately. I just couldn't think of how it would end .. But now I have it all thought out and you'll just have to survive the cliff hangers that I may as well drop on you like pianos in a cartoon. :D**

While Fleetfoot wondered whether or not he would be able to come up with a great phrase for his last words, Bluejay wasn't doing so well.

He was backing towards the doors, every moment Fleetfoot popping into his mind's eye as a corpse being eaten at the Adderhead's celebratory dinner. Considering Fleetfoot didn't know a lunge from a parry, Bluejay had every right to be worried. Not to mention the fact that his thick head had disappeared from view and all he saw was swords slashing at him.

He'd killed about 4 men already and injured maybe 6. Unfortunately, roughly 20 or more men were still waiting for their turn to pounce on him and about a 12 just sat eating their dinner and enjoying the show.

After injuring one more, Fleetfoot's peacock butt of a hairdo could be seen over the tips of soldier's heads. Thank God that when Bluejay had suggested a hair-cut on their trip from Lombrica, he'd narrowed his eyes and stalked away, insulted.

Bluejay parried a lunge and hopped up, waving a hand in the air in hopes of catchingFleetfoot'sglance. Helanded in time tostop another hard thrust at his stomach. This made an interesting, _"SSSHHHHSSSLE"_ sound. Bluejay giddily marveled at this and wished someone could have seen it.

More of the peacock-do could be seen now as he heard a view clashing noises.

"Oh.. Shit", he murmured under his breath. Fleetfoot was trying to fight! HE HAD NO EXPERIENCE! THAT SENSELESS, IDIOTIC, PEACOCK-HEADED, FEATHER-BRAINED--

_Thump!_ And with that, the straw hair disappeared from view.

**A/N: HAH! CLIFF HANGER! Wow.. I get sort of excited when I'm evil… Sorry for the extra shortness!**

**Beth: Did you even get my message.. Because I've got no idea whether it worked.. Oh well.. Comment me!**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT BETH! I'LL NEVER REMEMBER WHAT I'D WANTED THE ENDING TO BE! Grrr… all I know is that you suggested someone killing themselves… YOU SUCK!**

Fleetfoot had been standing on his tip-toes trying to see over the heads that obstructed his view of Bluejay. He was cursing under his breath and the sword he'd stolen lay limp at his side. As he got angrier his voice raised and one of the men turned around, realizing he was there.

"Oh, it's you. The little apprentice of Bluejay who thinks he's all that. Prancing around with your little girlfriend." The man stepped toward him and grinned. "I'll find pleasure in killing you."

Fleetfoot turned bright red in anger and embarrassment. "SHE'S NOT MY GIRLFRIEND AND KEEP HER OUT OF THIS!"

He raised his sword, nodding, as if demanding a fight and the man LAUGHED!

"You're just like Bluejay," Fleetfoot muttered stubbornly and the man stopped abruptly and looked up, insulted.

"What did you say, boy!"

"I said you're just as stubborn, idiotic, and.. FOOLISH as Bluejay!"

"Well, now. We can see where YOUR personality comes from.." The man angrily surged forward and took a hearty downward swing at him. Fleetfoot blocked it and they held for a moment, pushing each other's strength until Fleetfoot let up. A tinge of pain touched his back The man took another step and instead took a whack down towards his feet. Little did he know that Fleetfoot (hence his name) was the quickest-footed boy in all of Inkworld. Seriously.

Fleetfoot jumped with a smirk, but just his dexterity wasn't enough. The man drove for his heart. Fleetfoot wrenched the sword up to parry, only tipping the man's sword to the side. It went plowing through his right shoulder.

With one piercing yelp, he fell to the floor in pain, only to feel double when his bleeding back slapped the stone. The throne room echoed in the laughter of those who had taken a seat at the tables for dinner. Fleetfoot writhed on the floor, for a moment, then stopped and stared in shame at the sword that stuck out of him.

_'What am I doing lying on the floor like I'm dead? It's just a scratch. If I'm gonna die, I wanna do it the right way for God's sake.'_

He gazed up at the man, who was ready to finish him off and narrowed his eyes. "I'm not dead yet, YOU FAT LARD!"

He jerked the sword from his shoulder and stood up, trembling nevertheless. He glanced behind the man and there stood Bluejay, lip split and shirt ripped, pulling his sword from someone's stomach. Bluejay took a glance at Fleetfoot and yelled, "YOU'RE AN IDIOT, YOU KNOW THAT?"

At first, Fleetfoot was confused as to why, but then he heard the soft breath of a man behind him. "You've been enough trouble for one day, my dear boy."

**A/N: CLIFF HANGER! Once again … my evil shines through. smiles maliciously**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: So.. Are all you ghettoginny hardcore fans (do I even have any?) saying to ditch the Cliché Vampires story? I'm terribly attached to it and all the witty banter it includes, but it just doesn't seem to merit reviews… What think?**

Bluejay rolled his eyes as Firefox clenched his apprentice's shoulder in the way burglers do when they're trying to convince the five year-old who discovered them trying to rob the place that they're actually friends of the child's father. Fleetfoot winced shot deathly glares. It was the shoulder with the wound that was now bleeding steadily down his front. He was beginning to look pale. **(A/N: .. but not in that creepy loss of blood way..! More like the creepy, I'm-gonna-faint way..)**

Firefox smacked Fleetfoot's back in a chummy sort of way and smiled as the boy cringed from the pain it caused. Firefox seemed to know exactly what he was doing.

"Thanks for the show, Bluejay, but I've had my fill of hero/villain combat. Done any stunts lately? I'd personally like to see if you can hold your breath for an hour," he sneered as he produced a sword from his belt and leveled it with Fleetfoot's jugular. "Any tricks and he dies."

"One more POKE in my SHOULDER which is BLEEDING and I just MIGHT!" protested the angry boy.

"Taught him well.." smiled Bluejay, secretly knowing that Fleetfoot came that way.

"Shut up."

And it was silent. Bluejay had suddenly become nervous, a trait he thought he didn't possess. But there he was awestruck at himself for becoming so attached to this stupid boy who was now wedged against the chest of Firefox, moaning and bleeding all over the place. Firefox had the sword close now, just brushing the neck of him. Fleetfoot had fallen limp after his outburst, seeming more tired than ever.

Bluejay wearily went along with Firefox, watching in anxiety as Fleetfoot fell into a shallow state of unconsciousness. Basta appeared and swung the boy over his shoulder roughly and led two women to clean his injuries. Bluejay watched resignedly and let himself be chained.

**FLASHBACK**

_Bluejay bumped the older boy, silently and soundlessly slipping the cloth filled with coins out of his pocket. He muttered a humble apology and continued quickly on his way._

_"I say! Dustfinger! That kid just nicked your savings!" A baffled Bluejay felt his T-shirt plucked from the collar and dragged back to the two teenagers who imposed themselves upon him as though trying to appear threatening. They weren't doing well at all._

_This supposed Dustfinger was looking at Bluejay in a kind way and his reddish hair draped into his forehead in a brooding sort of way. His comrade was as dark as the night and trying not to grin. They were both skinny, tall, and lanky. They smelt of soot and wet dog. Bluejay wrinkled his nose and looked up defiantly. "Get off me! I didn't steal a thing, you accusatory--!"_

_The Dark One simply shoved him around and pulled the cloth from his pocket. "Here Dusty.. Maybe we should give him some. Just look at him!"_

_Bluejay glared, but it was inevitable that he was even more threateningly skimpy than the duo. He was 10 now, with long legs that were scraped and scarred. His dark hair made itself quite easily known, protruding as though there were a hedgehog growing on his head. Face smudged with grime, he was pitiable. But also extremely proud._

_"Don't even think of it! I'll be fine by myself! Just because you're older doesn't mean I'm going to let SMELLY, OLD YOU give me charity! Now LET GO of my hair!"_

_The Dark One flashed his pearly whites, contrasting dangerously with his skin tone. "I like this kid, Dusty. Kid, what's your name?"_

_And Bluejay told them.. However reluctantly.._

**_A/N: YAY! I like the flashback actually.. :'( All seems_ lost in the story though.**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: The long awaited.. arrival of Fleetfoot's near death experience. (I do want to thank Arch Angel who gave me the sweetest review. It was anon so I couldn't reply, but it made me feel warm and fuzzy inside!)**

Fleetfoot's vision flashed black and white as he awoke on a slate tablet in a secluded room. An ache in his back reminded him of the 40 cuts down his back and then he instantly remembered what had happened. His hand went to his shoulder where he'd been stabbed only to find it numb. He poked it. Nothing.

"You'll find no pains there."

He whipped around to see a little maid girl sitting on a bench in the corner. She pulled an awkward smile, but there was no happiness in her dead black eyes. He sat up and rubbed his back saying, "And just who are you?"

She quietly observed her conservative black slippers. "Mya. Just a servant."

"Thanks for numbing my arm," he said sheepishly. He wasn't accustomed to being humble. She was quite pretty with her perfect little nose and golden hair down to her back. He stared at her eyes. They were like the sky at midnight.

"I didn't do that.." she said, barely audible. "Clara did."

He looked around the room, coming aware that he should probably be getting out of there now. He glanced down. You could see his bones protruding on his chest, it was so skinny. He turned a tinge red. "Who's that? Then why are you in here?"

She sighed prettily and bore her stare through his forehead. "Well.. I've been sent to seduce you. Though I don't believe it's working."

His mouth dropped a bit, but he composed himself. "Really? I can't believe I be REDUCED TO THIS.."

She stood up. Her movements were that of a mouse's. "I didn't exactly volunteer. I don't find myself very arousing. Do you?"

"No," he replied shortly. He wondered whether Corky had gotten to the Black Prince and if they'd be here in time. "I'm leaving if you don't mind."

"Oh.. But I do."

"Uhhh.. Too bad, hot shot."

She looked at him exasperated. "Don't get so idiotic. I'm locked in here as well as you and we don't have any keys."

He grinned. "Who said we need keys?"

She looked at him as if he bored her. "I believe that I did."

"Don't take things so literally," he said indignantly and jumped from the table only to fall flat on the floor. She laughed quietly. He dragged himself up, red-faced to see her.

"You've just been shot. What do you expect?" she said, helping him to keep his place. Her head just barely reaching his shoulder did not help things.

"Pain-in-the-Ass-Bluejay would not have this problem," he muttered in annoyance.

She observed him curiously. "Pain in the ass? Why do you degrade your master?"

"Because he's an idiot!" he ranted. "First he saves my butt and expects me to help him! I don't take charity! Then he gets me KIDNAPPED and then almost KILLED. PLUS HE COMPLAINS ABOUT ME HALF THE TIME.. And makes his STUPID, WITTY REMARKS about my hair.. I've only been his friggen' apprentice for a week and I'm probably gonna' die here with YOU--"

"Excuse me? I'M trying to help you. Now stop yelling and stand for yourself." She almost stamped her foot, but remained her poise.

"Yeah.. Whatever.." he said under his breath as he finally gained control over his body. Well.. Everything besides his arm, which he couldn't even lift.

"So what is the point in you seducing me?" he asked pointedly.

"I don't know.." she replied shortly.

He shrugged and turned to the door and naively jiggled the handle. She shook her head and stepped forth. "What's your name anyways?"

"Err.. Fleetfoot.." he said as he began kicking the door.

"We'll be here forever.." she mumbled and plunked back down on the bench.

"I RESENT THAT STATEMENT!"

**A/N: .. Who will Fleetfoot end up with? Three choices: Mya? Corey? Mortola? I will be taking a poll! you win … my admiration (?) if you guess correctly! Hehe.. Yes you all know this is just to get more reviews. SO VOTE DAMNIT!**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Hmm.. The voting front does not bode well. I know there are more that two people reading this! It's my birthday today and I have the right to be angry at you all for once. SO VOTE! Or you will face my ghetto wrath! Rawr! Anyway.. The two votes I got have produced a tie between Corey and Mya. Poor Mortola..**

**Warning: There is some language. But HEY if you were chained to a wall.. You'd be peeved too.**

Bluejay irritably kicked a bucket.

_This bites. I'm chained to a friggen wall._

He looked around. All he saw was stone, chain, bucket, and his legs. They were long. They outstretched before him in a forlorn manner. If someone poked them they would flop over and begin to sob. They looked to Bluejay for comfort.

_DON'T LOOK AT ME! You got me into this. Sure I told you to do it.. But you could have goddamn well stopped me._

No answer.

_I'm mad. I'm crazy. I'm mad, I'm crazy, and I'm talking to my LEGS! They might as well just hang me now. Get it over with._

"GET IT OVER WITH ALREADY!"

He didn't even get an echo. What's a prison without an echo?

He'd been in there for who knows how long. Firefox had left him a very long while ago with only a few words to eat his brains out.

_'It's your fault we'll have to kill the boy.'_

_Goddamn him and his froofy pants. FROOFY ISN'T A WORD! Jeez Louise. Who is Louise anyways? Oh.. God I swear if I ever get out of here I'm gonna slaughter you, Firefox. You put me here in this living hell. Self pity sucks balls._

He rattled the chains for the umpteenth time.

_Aw.. Fuck it._

He sat back and delved without mind, into his memories.

_FLASHBACK_

_"Bluejay, you are the greatest thief I've ever laid eyes on."_

_The Black Prince grinned happily and ruffled his hair. He regarded the silver goblet in his palm. Young Bluejay had lain it there only moments before. He was 18 and dangerously dashing, standing there, lean and tall with only the right amount of muscle. Dark hair flopped into his twinkling eyes and he was smirking._

_"It was a cinch, dear Prince," he flourished with a mocking bow._

_"Well now," cut in Dustfinger who had a sly look about him. "That almost rhymed."_

_"All part of my plan," replied Bluejay and he stretched._

_The Prince sat down Indian-style and ruffled his bear's head. "I believe our work here is done, my friend."_

_Dustfinger nodded in agreement and blew a spark at the young man. "I dub you a player!"_

_"Since when have we dubbed?" inquired the Prince._

_"Since I had an itch to throw a spark."_

**A/N: Well? I'm actually quite proud of this chapter. KEEP VOTING!**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Okay. I have some verifications to make.**

**Crash (anon): This is fan fiction. That means that whatever I want to do can happen. I read the book. I know that Bluejay was actually the Black Prince or whoever faking it. I'm not yelling though. Just so you know..**

**Safeara Person (anon): Um what do you mean put you in the book? I don't know you.**

**The votes for Fleetfoot's love interest remain at a tie. Because no one else will vote! Now VOTE! Or next time I won't update for even longer!**

Fleetfoot stared angrily at the door. His back was in pain, his shoulder flopped like a ragdoll, and his neck was still sore. He considered just slumping against the door and falling asleep right there and dream about beautiful girls.. Yes.. That was it. There was this beautiful minstrel back home whose hair was like gold.

Behind his back, Mya yawned and pushed him aside from the door. "Honest to goodness, F-F.. What's your name again?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Fleetfoot," he replied in irritation. He silently fumed as she looked out the window of the room. She batted her long eyelashes and quietly glanced at the guard there. He was a skimpy boy, barely older than Fleetfoot.

"Hello, Mya. Must be a drag stuck in there. I heard that boy was pretty dangerous." The boy grinned, obviously admiring Mya's pretty features.

"Oh yes! He's scaring me, really. Please, subdue him for me, Will?"

Will smiled at her. "What do I get for it?"

"A kiss," she said with a flirtatious smile.

"Anything for that," he admitted and opened the door.

Fleetfoot was seemingly emotionless. His head was exploding with objections and comments. _She could've friggen' LET ME IN ON THIS! But.. I can take this guy with one arm. Maybe she'll pull a karate psycho move on me. Well.. Technically on Will. But I'd be pretty surprised by it too._

Will stepped into the little cell and grinned at Fleetfoot.

"HIYA!"

Suddenly, Mya flew at Will and karate chopped his neck. She winced when her hand hit. Not exactly the karate girl Fleetfoot had pictured. Will's eyes flicked at her and he took her hand off of his neck and laughed. "You really think that would work? You've read too many stories."

He grabbed her head and pulled her towards him, sticking his tongue right in her mouth. Then he violently pushed her against the wall and she went flying to it, sliding down the wall in pain.

"It's pretty low to French a girl then peg her at a wall," Fleetfoot pointed out as he prowled closer to Will.

"As if you would know what a French tastes like!"

Fleetfoot said nothing. He was pretty prude. He blushed.

Will snorted and advanced. "Just what I thought. Prude and a coward."

Fleetfoot angrily took another step.

Will fired a punch that Fleetfoot easily side-stepped. This continued for a few moments.

"Stop that, jerk! Put your dukes up!"

Fleetfoot smiled and poked his numb arm. " I kinda can't."

Will took a fast shot at his stomach this time and catching him off guard, he just caught his side. He stumbled back and ducked another punch from Will, this time sloppily.

"Why the sudden hate?" Fleetfoot queried facetiously as he shuffled away from another fist.

"You just radiate annoying," he scowled and attempted to trip him up. Fleetfoot jumped and kicked him in the gut. Fleetfoot's well built legs took care of the rest. He alternated legs so quickly, Will couldn't duck or barely see them. Fleetfoot kept his balance with his left arm, then finally ceased the beat down, and put and triumphant foot on his chest.

"Gimme' the keys, you jerk."

Will struggled for the keys and handed them over reluctantly. Fleetfoot spat on him and gave him one fleeting kick in the ass. **((A/N: Get it! FLEETING! Hah.. Okay.. I'm done my puns.. Hey that rhymed!))**

Then he pulled Mya out the cell door and locked it with a final smirk. He turned to Mya. She was irritably rubbing her head. "You should have killed that spineless little--"

He frowned. "Chill. You okay? 'Cause we really need to help out Bluejay."

She raised an eyebrow. "I thought you hated him?"

"No, I didn't."

"Uh.. Yeah."

"Just because he's an idiot who almost got me killed doesn't mean I hate him. He's a nice guy. He'd risk his life to save anyone. Sure.. Sometimes I wanna strangle him-- but hey.. He'd probably kick my ass."

Mya laughed. "How sweet!"

"Oh, Shut up."

**A/N: YAY! They're out! But how will they save Bluejay? Hmm.. FIND OUT NEXT UPDATE!**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: I hate to break it to you hardcore Ginny fans (if there are any of you) but this will be over soon owing to the fact that I feel it is rude to have more than 3 unfinished stories. And soon I will be starting a Kenshin story about his son, Kenji. If any of you know what Kenshin is…**

**Anywho.. BLUEJAY'S POV!**

_Sulking isn't good for my handsome figure._ Bluejay reflected on his slouching seat in the cell. He was basically having a one-sided conversation in his mind. _I should not submit myself to have a hump on my back like an old man. I'm 28 for God's sake! I should be striding in confidence and winking at swooning girl's in my wake! .. But where would I be striding? I have no where to go. There are no swooning girls at the moment either._

He sighed. _I want some swooning girls. PRONTO!_

"Why can't I have some fuckin' swooning girls for fu--"

"Watch your language." The girl's voice came from seemingly no where. It was sweet and comforting to Bluejay.. Until he registered what she was telling him. "And what kind of slut would swoon? Ugh.. Men are such conceited pigs sometimes. I shouldn't break you out for that, but I will just because Fartface needs some guidance. Serious guidance."

"Are you insulting me and saving me at the same time?"

"I s'pose."

She finally came from the darkness and the shadows past over her fierce expression. Her hair, obsidian and shimmering blue in the moonlight that shot through the window was strewn across her face. Her eyes were darkly glimmering tawny like a tiger's. The glare in them matched.

"Corey?"

"Thanks for the introduction." she muttered sarcastically.

He looked at her hard. There was something about her. She looked so grown up.

"Just how old are you?" he demanded.

"19."

Jeez. Bluejay had expected 15 or maybe 16. But 19? Fleetfoot would be surprised by that one. Fleetfoot was about 15 maybe, seeing as the boy lost certain count. At least he was a boy to Bluejay in his almost 30 glory. But Corey? She had the angelic features of just a kid, but now in the dark of the cell he saw her maturity in her eyes.

"Yeah. Figured that."

She snorted. "Liar. I look like I'm same as Fleetfoot."

"Well.." He didn't exactly feel up to keeping up the awkward conversation. He looked her up and down and a certain sense of tensing up. She made him feel exposed. He quickly changed the subject in fear of his own feelings. "Why'd you come hear anyways? You should've gone to the Prince!"

"I couldn't have gotten past the guards. I jumped a maid and stole her clothes and watched them take you away. Then I followed, knowing you'd know what to do."

He grinned. "Of course I do!"

She rolled her eyes. Then tugged in annoyance at the maid's outfit which was simple linen, ripped and frayed at the bottom. It was obviously two times too big. "I'm sure," she said doubtfully. "Look-- I wanna change out of this crap. Turn about."

_SHE'S TAKING OFF HER CLOTHES BEHIND MY BACK!_ He gulped. Why did he feel like such a buffoon? He turned around and waited a moment. A few shuffles, impure thoughts, and blushes later, Bluejay was allowed to turn around. She now stood in black as he did. She smiled coyly. "Ready for stealth?"

He looked nervously down at her hip-hugging pants and inwardly smacked himself for what he was thinking about..

"Er…."

**A/N: For the dim-witted of my readers, it's called "sexual tension". Ohlala! Heehee. I'm sorry. Ginny cannot survive a story with out a sub-love-plot.**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: So.. This is turning into a pretty romantic story, what with the Bluejay/Corey thing and the Mya/Fleetfoot beginnings. Yeah. That's right. I pulled a fast one you with the Corey being 19 and Bluejay lusting after her like crazy 'cause he's a perverted and conceited idiot. He's like ten years older than her.. But you know.. He's not exactly a virgin if you know what I mean. Far from it. He's a player. And he's drop dead sexy. Just FYI. Fleetfoot's just cute in that messy boy kind of way. Not like Bluejay who is like a god or something. Now I'm just babbling. So I'll stop.**

"Girls are supposed to carry hairpins. You should know these things."

"And what exact purpose would that serve us.. Hmm?"

"We could open the door. And I wouldn't have to over-exert myself."

"We have the keys, you imbecile."

"The door won't open! It's obviously rusted shut!"

"Then why don't you break through it with your superhuman strength?"

"HELLO! I'm not strong without one whole arm. Plus.. I've got bandages all the way up my back!"

"You're going to hurt yourself jiggling it like that. Turn it right."

"Stop instructing me! It's distracting."

"Move, you numb-nut."

There was a click as Mya opened the second door, easily. She turned it right and pushed. Fleetfoot stuck out his tongue at her back and she stepped gracefully through. "You're such a thickhead."

He angrily stomped after, muttering something incoherent about insults and nobility. She ignored him and kept walking, quietly and cautiously now as they were in an open hall.

"Telling me off like she's some queen or something Tchuh! I'll show her! And--"

"Shut your mouth or we'll be heard, you oaf."

"Just what makes you so superior that you should insult me?! I don't appreciate it."

"And I don't appreciate your inferior intelligence but I keep that to myself."

"No you don't! You just called me an oaf."

"I wasn't lying.."

Fleetfoot made a derisive noise at her back but she ignored it carefully, crouching along the hallway. He sneezed. She made an angry face. He stuck out his tongue. They continued on their way. They came to a point where the hall split off. He looked at her expectantly. Thinking for a moment she pointed left. "He'll be in the cells beneath the wine cellar. Let's go."

"Will there be a guard?"

"Why bother? You can't get in or out of the doors like you might in our room. Bluejay couldn't do anything about."

Fleetfoot started to doubt ever getting out of this silver hell. They descend the steps at the end of the hall. The air became mustier and mustier as the steps stopped and they were walking a hallways lined with cages and prisons. At the end there was a single door. Mya reached out and pulled it open but the cell inside the dark room was swung open and no one was there.

"Holy Crap." Fleetfoot muttered. "He got out.."

"He had help," Mya said, nodding and kicking a dress out from underneath the bench. "A maid. But why did she take off her clothes?"

He shrugged and glanced around. Something about his surroundings were so familiar. He sniffed the air. "Lavender."

She looked at him. "What?"

"It smells like lavender in here… Corky smells like lavender!"

Mya frowned. "Who the heck is Corky?"

"My friend. She must have been here."

She looked around curiously. "How will they get around the castle without knowing the way."

He snorted and scoffed. "Bluejay knows his way around here better than you do. They'll be going to find me! Let's go back."

"No, you idiot! That's a waste of time. They'll know we escaped on our own. Either we get out and retrieve the Prince with the news of his capture or we go to the throne room and get ourselves killed."

"We can't get past the guards."

"What did you expect to do after we'd met up with Bluejay, then? He's not a magician!"

Fleetfoot observed his feet. Then he grinned. "I've got an idea."

**A/N: Sorry terribly for the never-ending wait. I will not give some pathetic I-had-a-writers-block excuse. The truth is i'm lazy. and that is that.**


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